I wish I could rock with you. I never got a chance to just rock with my mother, I never got the chance to be hugged or held by you, Mamma. I never got the chance to pack my stuff and say, “Mamma or grandma, I am leaving. I am grown now.”
Grandma, I miss you. I miss them four course meals with steak and baked potatoes. I cry while eating from the memories of us at the dinner table.
When you love someone, you don’t treat them so bad. I used to sing these songs every morning to grandma. I had mixed signals from my grandma. I was spoiled but she used to call me ugly.
I remember my mother’s best friend telling me that I got everything back in my kids. Yes, indeed, I do. My little mini-me does look a lot like me.
